NOTE: The Norwegian language contains a lot of letters that are not on my keyboard. In most cases, I have typed in English without them.

Friday, June 13th, 2025
Skagen, Denmark to Hirtshals, Denmark
(Hirtshals, Denmark to Larvik, Norway – by ferry)
Larvik, Norway to Hemsedal, Norway
Distance travelled – 350 kilometres

I seem to sleep better on my holidays than I do in “real” life – perhaps because my brain knows, subconsciously, that there is not anything else that I could be doing. Anyway, by my standards I slept in and did not wake up until 07:00 !

Outside of the window there was bright sunshine and the sky was an unbroken expanse of azure. A fine day was in prospect.

Because our ferry to Norway did not depart until almost 13:00, we were, somewhat unusually, under no time pressure at all. We did not even scurry down to breakfast as soon as they started serving it, which is my usual practice and Lucie usually comes with me. Instead, we went down at 08:00. The variety of dishes on offer was well in keeping with the high-standards that we had so far experienced. The waitress even found me a pot for my tea, which gained both her and the Hotel Marie still yet more Brownie points.

After breakfast we dithered a little and eventually checked out and departed at 11:00. The port of Hirtshals, from which our ferry would leave was a mere forty-five kilometres away. So we reversed our country ride of the previous afternoon through the fields and forests and made it to the port in a little under an hour.

We needed petrol again and all we could find was another automated station. We were very careful to follow the instructions and safely dispensed about 150 DKK of petrol – for which we got a receipt. Naturally, we found out a few minutes later that we had now got a second blocking (of 950 DKK this time) on our account. That was, effectively ALL of our remaining Danish Crowns – when, in reality, we still had over 1500. This did not seem right – but what could we do ? We would just have to hope that, by the time we came back, the blocks have been lifted. (They had been)

Getting the ferry was easy enough, we had booked on-line and it cost EUR 116. The formalities were fairly minimal although they did ask for our Passports. We joined a line of other bikers about to make the crossing and were ushered on first.

We tied the Harley down (it took longer to work out how the restraining straps worked than to actually do the restraining) and took a seat upstairs. The ferry seemed huge as it was several times the size of the MV “Plancius” in which we had explored the Antarctic a few months before.

The sea was calm and very blue and whilst the four hour crossing did not exactly fly by, it was over soon enough. At about five in the evening we were wending our way out of the port of Larvik and onto the roads of Norway.

By Lucie’s reckoning, we had about 270 kilometres to go to our night’s lodgings in the small town of Hemsedal, chosen primarily because of its proximity to our first scenic waterfall. At first all went well, albeit somewhat slowly, because the speed limits on rural Norwegian roads are very low.

At our first way point, the town of Kongsberg, things started to go a bit pear shaped. The SatNav said we had about one-hundred and fifty kilometres to go, which fitted with the plan. However, once we had set off again and travelled about twenty kilometres, the SatNav suddenly updated the distance remaining to one hundred and SEVENTY kilometres or, in layman’s terms, our destination had mysteriously moved forty kilometres further away. A brief consultation revealed that our SatNav route had diverged from Lucie’s planned route and that, to go back and correct that would, by then, be even further. We pressed on. It is not that the distance really mattered, we had already ridden almost fifteen hundred kilometres from home, it was the time ! At Norwegian speeds, that extra distance carried quite a high time penalty and we were afraid our hotel restaurant would close before we got there.

So, I had no choice but to hustle slightly. The roads are predominantly well surfaced although, like anywhere, there are dubious stretches. On the first part of the ride they were quite twisty and we were riding a loaded Harley-Davidson. Then there were the Norwegian drivers. They were not bad drivers at all, in fact they were the complete opposite. However, what that meant was that they adhered, like glue, to the posted speed limits. The upshot of that was that, even out in the countryside, on an otherwise deserted road, they would plod along at 80 kph – and simply nobody overtakes ….. Given our time situation, that was horribly frustrating. There were, naturally, a few more remote areas where I could give the Softail a little bit more gas, but the time kept ticking on and we did not seem to be getting anywhere very fast at all.

Because of the season, the days were long and the further north we got the longer the days were to become. We were driving in what seemed to be an unending early evening. The countryside we were travelling through had the stark, harsh beauty that I think you can only really find in Norway. Rugged mountains, forests, dark blue lakes and long, hazy vistas were on all sides, at all times. It is a beautiful place. There was the occasional small town, but mostly the habitation was small villages of a few spaced houses. All of these had a 40 kph speed limit through them and raised, “sleeping policemen”, style speed bumps that made sticking to that limit the sensible option.

Out in the wilds (and that is an appropriate term), there were tiny, far flung huts visible in the distance in many places. You have to wonder what those people do.

Committed to the SatNav, as we basically had to be, we had to follow its edicts. So, when it pointed us of of the main road, I simply followed. This led to a steep climb involving a series of hairpin bends that were not really the province of a loaded Harley with two people on it. The engine coped OK, but so say we wallowed a bit through some of the corners would be an understatement. Luckily, there was hardly any other traffic. Of course, having made the climb, we had to go down again, which was no easier and I imagine that I could have fried an egg on the front disc brake before we got half way. Half way to what, I hear you ask ? Well, the junction where we rejoined the same road we had left at the bottom of the hill of course ! Our SatNav settings say “fastest route”, so I can only assume it thought that was the fastest – maybe it thought it was attached to a Ducati as well !

At the junction, the SatNav said we had ninety-nine kilometres to go, but in truth, by then, I was basically ignoring that information and concentrating on its little blue line. It WOULD get us there, we just had to follow its edicts – but when that would be, was in the lap of the Gods, possibly those scary Norse ones. We stopped for a stretch and a fag and I nervously eyed a nearby bridge as it was definitely the sort of place a Troll would like to call home.

Away we went, already resigned to a hungry night and soon found ourselves in a really remote area. That is a relative term, of course, but this had the wide, quite well surfaced roads that you often find in such places. The kind where you can see a long way ahead and which are totally deserted. This meant that I could finally pick up the speed a bit and, obviously, I did. Nothing crazy, you understand, because there were still the occasional sets of S bends with blind corners, but I did see 90 kph a few times. It was at that speed, on an otherwise almost perfect road that I hit a deep and totally invisible pothole very hard indeed. Momentum carried us through, but it was a very nasty moment ! Never, ever, relax !

I had not realised just how high we had climbed, but we went downhill for over twenty-five kilometres and I scarcely had to touch the throttle at all, except to exit corners. We came into what was obviously a “touristy” area, lots of hytte (huts), campgrounds, hostels and, in one place, an absolute sea of closely packed caravans …

At lower altitudes, the scenery lost a lot of its harshness, but retained its stunning beauty. We wound through it with, even if I believed the SatNav on which the figure continued to fluctuate, our destination getting steadily nearer.

We came to a turn on which Hemsedal was actually signposted and the distance shown actually agreed with my screen. Truly the last leg was finally upon us. The road was wide and fairly straight through a valley with tall ridges on both sides. It was a kind of a mountain pass, so there was quite a few vehicles coming our way from time to time – bunched up as traffic usually seemed to be in Norway.

I must have been riding due west because the sun was right in my eyes. Even with my excellent, self dimming Harley riding glasses, it was a bit difficult to see clearly. Twenty kilometres to go, I could feel myself relax slightly. But NEVER relax ! About four hundred metres ahead, two Elk walked out of the trees and stopped on the road. They were young, but they were still big !

I slowed abruptly as Lucie saw them too and began banging my shoulder. They saw us too and quickly scampered into the trees. We stopped – they stopped – and we cautiously eyed each other. You can see them, under the right hand taller tree, if you look closely – and then magnified …
Then, they slowly ambled away and were quickly lost in the trees. It was a wonderful moment. There are warning signs everywhere but you rarely see an Elk in the wild.

Still bubbling, we road the final stretch of road into the low rays of the not-quite-ever-going-to-set sun.

Luckily we soon came into Hemsedal and, more luckily still, Lucie spotted our hotel before the SatNav took us sailing past it.

Goodness me, the Hotell Skogstad (their spelling !) was a very swanky place. It looked a bit more than a mere cut above the places where we usually stay. Thank you booking.com !

The reception was open and we checked in easily. The restaurant was closed, but this was a top-notch, customer focused, establishment. We were shown a simple menu, chose a burger each and were promised them in twenty-minutes. We were also told our room had been upgraded and wow ! It was fancily decorated with a huge, picture window pointing at the significant mountain across the road.

We went back down and ate our burgers which would have been delicious even if we had not been so hungry – accompanied by beers which were great but, this being Norway, probably cost more than our house !

You guessed it, I was tired and I was full, that was it for me !